


Only willing submission

by wordsbyLaw



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Forced Feminization, Kidnapping, Lotor may or may not be a panty sniffer, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Public Humiliation, also given canon ages in some parts of the world this is underage but not in my country lol, i have no idea what i'm doing lmao, i might revisit that later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbyLaw/pseuds/wordsbyLaw
Summary: “I imagine a few of our guests will become a bit handsy. If you can't handle that you'll come to me, understand ?”“And what will you do ? Fight for my honour ? Or my hand perhaps ?” Lance snorted.“You have no honour, you are my war spoils, my price, if they treat you without respect it is me they dishonour.”“... That was weirdly reassuring for a declaration of enslavement.”this was so not what i intended to write lol ^^'i wrote it over a couple of nights from 1am to 6am typically, so bear with methis is from Lance's pov, where Lotor is just really flexing the power he holds over him while also wanting something from Lance. will Lance comply with his arch nemesis ???????





	1. Headache

Dizzy and with a numbing headache Lance came to. His memory was a bit hazy. The team had been figthing Lotor's generals up close, or the majority of them had. Lance, as the sharpshooter, had overseen the operation from a distance. He was sitting on a ledge, his smooth red riffle pressed against his body as he observed the scene under him. Everyone was holding up, but he couldnt findt Ezor, and Narti was pushing Keith away from the rest of the group toward Lance's position, which was worrisome since the closer they got to him the more split his focus would be and soon they would be almost directly under him. With an annoyed 'hmpf' Lance was about to radio Keith, when his rifle was abruptly ripped from him. It flew a good 20 metres out into the empty space over the ledge he was lying on, way past Keith and Narti.

Almost the second he turned around Ezor's pointed footware connected to his jaw as well. With his head spinning he barely registered the way she giggled as she grabbed him around the throat. Lance gasped and tried to pull her hand off him.He struggled while she pushed him closer to the edge of his hiding spot.

Lance remembered thinking he was gonna die then. That Ezor was going to throw him off the edge and let him plummet to his death, possibly landing in Keith's face and taking him with him. And he couldn't even yell out to warn him, what with being strangled and all. He also remembered the surprise that had momentarily distracted him from the situation when Ezor tipped over into the empty space under them, voluntarily falling. But then she didn't let go of him before he was falling too.

She cried out, excitedly, full of joy, and spread her arms out, the yellow skin, between them and her torso acting like some sort of wings, like a kite or a flying squirrel and she was in control of her descent. Which was more than one could say for Lance. He didn't scream, not immediately, he gasped for air, his windpipe having been shut off firmly just a second ago. And then there was the impact, and this was when his memory starting getting _really_ hazy. Just as he was about to hit the ground someone slammed into him, catching him, likely saving him from his end. It should've been Keith, he was the only team member close enough to do it, but he could've sworn he heard his voice somewhere far off yelling his name followed but a lot of other yelling. He remembered the rest like he had walked away unscathed, walked away from his team.

He'd never do that. He rubbed his face and blinked hard a couple of times, feeling his headache slowly growing dimmer and less significant. The room he was in, wasn't his own, nor was the bed. The bed was in the middle of the square room, the sheets where dark grey and so were the walls and the ceiling and the floor, except for a round red carpet under the bed with blue detailing.

Lance was starting to get a bit concerned. This whole place looked _awfully_ Galra to him.

He kicked the cover off and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, onto the soft plush carpet, and noticed what he was wearing. For a moment he was horrified.

Everything was transparent and so dark blue it was almost the same dark grey as his sheets. His legs were wrapped in lace up well past his mid thigh, and he'd been dressed in some sort of baby doll dress. It had elbow length sleeves but hung off both his shoulders and it had two bottons, only the top one was done up, making the thing look almost like a shawl, had it not been for the line of white pearls at the seam that wrapped around his shoulders and connected with the closed botton. But the most important thing about the costume in Lance's humble opinion was not what it consisted of, but what it lacked, and that would be underwear, something, anything really, to cover his dick, would've been nice...

Swallowing down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him, Lance took a few deep breaths, a hand over his heart trying to regain control of the rate it was beating at.

He calmed. A little. Then he peeled of the stocking from his right leg and wrapped it around his hips for the sake of decency. He supposed proprity and shame was out the window since someone had obviously undressed and redressed him. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Some presumably Galra creeper had stolen the underear off his body. It was probably Lotor, since they'd been figting him last he remembered. Quiznak the fucker stole his underwear, he was probably sniffing it right now, or something else at the same grossness level. Lance shuddered. _Ew_. And when had he even last changed his underwear ? Ah _fuck it_ , give Lotor a proper whiff of some serious ass crack. Given the connotations of his new attire, it'd be great if Lotor suddenly found him super repulsive instead of whatever this half nude lace thing was suppose to signal.

Was that a cold sweat coming on ? Lance tried to shake the thought as he stood up and walked toward the only door in the room. Metal sliding doors, no control panel or hand scanner or key hole or door knob or anything of the like on this side. Lance took a deep steadying breath. He looked around the room. There were literally only a bed in it. A mattress on legs with some weird looking headboard. And then those weird metal rings that hung from the walls about two and a half metres up. Nothing he could use as a weapon, no secret escape capsule, no back entrance, not even a window to bust through. Lance turned back to the door and lifted a hand to knock.

An idea immerged and he stopped himself.

He took off the other stocking and then the dress with the pearls and stuffed it into the long sock. The pearls might not be heavy, but they were hard and though both would've been preferable, he only needed the one for a make-shift weapon.

He knocked. A moment passed. “Anybody home ? Can't Lotor even spare a guard for his most impressive and dangerous prisoner ?” The doors slid open not long after and a Galra guard took a step forward. Lance didn't hesitate, he slung the pearl stuffed stockings right at his helmet with everything he could muster. The guard barely stumbled to the side so Lance kicked his knee in and immediately had him on the floor. He snatched the alien gun and was out the door in a breath.

He saw that weird Galran cat-thing Kova down one halway and immediately turned the other way the guard's yells echoing after him. He might be naked but for a sock and a gun but he had proved he still stood a change. The adrenaline was pumping through him. He felt a touch proud of himself. _He stood a change!_ He turned his first corner and nearly body slammed Narti, he would have, if she hadn't been prepared for him. She only touched him and he stood still. He saw himself handing her the gun. He was screaming, internally. What was happening. Narti didn't let go of his shoulder and when she started walking, Lance followed obediently. He thought he was going to be sick for a moment.

She led him to Lotor now with Kova in tow as well. The Galran Prince was to be found in a huge ballroom surrounded by servants setting up for some sort of event. Tables and chairs and table cloths and decorations practically flying through the room. Everything however slowed down around Lance. The Galra looking at him quizically, some with disgust and some with lust coating their faces and postures. Lance's adams apple bobbed as he swalled nervously. He vaguely wondered which one of the servant would be charged with cleaning up after Lotor ripped his head off, one that wanted him or one that hated him. He didn't know which was worse. At least the room was almost a sort of beautiful, with the many glowing crystals in varying sizes that hung from the ceiling like a mixture of galaxies and chandeliers. Lance always thought he'd meet his end under the stars, maybe this was just as well.

Kova rubbed up against Lotor getting his attention. “Narti-” He started, sounding almost kind, before he turned around and caught sight of Lance. He cleared his throat and put on an appropriately displeased expression as he looked him up and down. Lance would've almost been embarrassed at the disapproval had he not been enraged at the way Lotor's lips failed to fight off an amused smile. “I see you were correct in your assumption, Narti. It will not go unnoticed that you stopped his escape.” Lotor said. He didn't look away from Lance.

There was a moments silence. “Oh let the man speak for himself Narti, I'm curious how he did it, and I wonder if it has anything to do with his modefied attire.” Lotor took a step forward and caressed Lance's hip over the fabric he'd wrapped around himself. It took only a second but Lance still felt the goosebumps spreading across his body. But then he felt a breath of fresh air overcoming him. He could speak again.

“ _Hey_ no touching !” Lotor made a face and rolled his hand in the air dismissively.

“I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it. Now will you tell me how you got out of your cell and why you've dressed down ?”

“Well as a matter of fact, it was a question of sheer cunning,” Lance established haughtily.

“And tenacity, I'd imagine,” Lotor added.

“Yes, that too, I'm very tenacious,” he agreed, “that and a pretty dress-slash-weapon, but that's all im saying.”

Lotor lifted his eye brows a moment. “Impressively creative. But I'm glad you found the dress to your liking.” He added with a smirk and turned away, efficiently endning that conversation.

He caught a servant flying past, “make sure the throne is at the far end and with a pillow for my new pet.” he said and turned back to Lance, “I'd like for you to be comfertable at my side.” his eyes bore into Lance, refusing all protests in their dominans. “Take him back and offer him some clothes before tonight. Its his own choice whether he wants to wear it or go naked. Either thing suits the occasion.” He smirked at Lance, looking him up and down and turned away without another word. Narti had haltered him from replying to his annoyance.

Back at his cell the floored guard had been replaced with two new ones and on the bed lay another costume for him to wear. Narti shoved him past the doors that hissed shut immediately after him.

The new dress was practically the same as before, still with bare shoulders, but with a high tight collar stretching up from the middle of his chest at the row of pearls and a sort of band to strap around his neck to keep the fabric in place instead of a button. There were matching wrist bands as well. He didn't put them on. There where however also a sort of underwear this time, which he gladly put on immediately. They _were_ skimpy. But they were there. And they were lacey. Lace fluttered around his thighs and ass almost like some perverse skirt but much much too short. Lance was just grateful it wasn't a thong, though it was a close call.

Once he'd dressed (no stockings this time) that was it, nothing to do. About an hour or two passed in which time Lance asked through the door about a restroom and a previously invisible plate of the wall slid aside to unveil a sink, a bath and a toilet. The rest of his time, he used on patting down the walls looking for more secrets. Until the doors slid open again and Lotor was back.

“Paladin.” He greeted and took a step inside. “I would say it's good to see you dressed, but I must admit I'd hoped to see you less so.”

Lance flushed angrily. “Thanks for the new panties, since you stole my old underwear for your sniffing collection. I would've never pegged you as a panty-man, but I suppose you learn something new everyday.”

Lotor, the bastard, seemed genuinely entertained. “We all have our vices,” he smiled and walked to the bed, picking up the wrist bands Lance had left behind. “Would you prefer to put these on yourself or with help ?” Lotor asked and the guards outside took a step closer to underline what _help_ he was talking about. Lance walked over from his spot against the wall and stretched out his wrists for Lotor to cuff.

“How clever of you,” Lotor complimented hollowly. “I'd like you to look your best since you are the guest of honour at tonight's party.” A cold shiver ran down his spine and seized his heart, making it skip a beat. Lotor chuckled bemusedly. “No need for that face,” he gestured to Lance and practically tried to wave the fright from his features. “Tonight I will parade you around as a personal victory for my campaign and to boost morale. And let me remind you that everyone at this function will have a background in the Galra military and are capable of defending themselves and defending whatever trinket weapons they've decided to bring along for the sake of their image. And your death, paladin, would not only further the morale boost I mentioned but it would make one of those brutes immortal in name, a paladin killer. Do you hear ? Don't give them any excuses. You're not only the blue paladin, but also the red paladin, and to be studied, and of course more importantly, you are bait. I want you alive, unless you deprive me of that option yourself.”

Lance could do nothing but nod as he took in that information.

“I imagine a few of our guests will be more indulgient than others, when it comes to the substances we provide and perhaps become a bit handsy as a result. If you can't handle that you'll come to me, understand ?”

“And what will you do ? Fight for my honour ? Or my hand perhaps ?” Lance snorted. He aimed for a good mixture of ridicule and indifference, but landed square in a pile of nervous please-reassure-me.

“You have no honour, you are my war spoils, my price, if they treat you without respect it is _me_ they dishonour.”

“... That was weirdly reassuring for a declaration of enslavement.”

Lotor stood from the bed and made his arm available for holding without another word. Lance hesitated still. “Remember how I was going to have you beat and tortured if you don't do as I say and escape is impossible and any attempts there of will only lead to the aforementioned beatings and torture sessions.” Lance put his hand on Lotor's arm in the loop he had created for him to hold onto like a proper gentleman. Quiznak.

 

 

 

 


	2. Publicly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets his butt in trouble yikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i drew Lance's dress lmao have a look !  
> http://drawsbylaw.tumblr.com/post/164792836469/i-quickly-doodled-lance-in-an-outfit-i-tried-to

Lotor hadn't been lying when he'd warned Lance about the Galra's intoxication. Those bastards where hammered. He could practically feel their eyes on him like a physical touch. And he was uncomfortable. His body tensed and he unconsciously tightened his grip on Lotor's arm and looked above the crowd, head held high. The glowing crystals in the the ceiling were beautiful, some of them wrapped in meekly coloured silks that hung from crystal to crystal creating constelations. The same crystals where placed on small metal rods along the multitude of long tables, like candle sticks, and all the long tables where placed in one side of the room, the other half mostly empty for, what ? Dancing ? Socialising ? There were small tables along the walls with abstract looking sculptures and an occasional chair or couch. There were no pictures on the walls, just strange architecture, and at the opposite wall they'd entered the room from, there was a huge window with a view of the stars and Galran starships that slowly drifted by.

If nothing else, Lance could consider this a valuable lesson in Galra culture. Lotor led him to their left, against the wall, there was an elevated level, about half a dusin steps up to a large arm chair, a throne, Lance thought, and there was a pillow placed on the last step up. “Sit,” Lotor commanded and he begrudingly did so, while Lotor stood before the throne. The murmurs around the room slowly died out. Lance felt like a show dog or an expensive whore to be showed off.

“This is the red paladin.” Lotor introduced him and the crowd cheered and booed in equal measure. “He has been defeated by my generals and myself, proving their capabilities,” he gestured to the women, who'd gathered at the bottom of the steps at his right. “With their help soon all the paladins will be defeated and Voltron will be ours!” The crowd went wild.

“And that will all be due to our alliances with other worlds!” He continued and his vigorous crowd turned to uncertain mumbles almost immediately. “These generals,  _my generals_ , owe their skill only in part to the Empire. We could have never captured a paladin alive as quickly as we did without the skills that are not inherently Galra.” Lance looked nervously from the prince to his subjects. They were starting to look a bit unruly. “Alliances make us stronger !” He yelled over the noisy crowd. “We are not weak, but my father followed the old ways and look what these humans did to him. Bedridden for weeks, no one has seen him since his defeat against Voltron. But my generals, of mixed species,” he interjected, “they caught a paladin alive under my supervision. And that is what I want for us. We will rule as we always have, but supervising, not suppressing. Our resources are better spent on mutually beneficial alliances, than an iron grip forcing every subdued planet to its knees. We need our guards to fight Voltron, not rebellious farmers and street rats. We need foreign military to willingly join us in the fight against Voltron. We will not fight on two fronts, but recruit friends of Voltron to turn against them. If we can do that, we have already won.”

Lance looked on in horror as the murmurs turned to agreement. Because Lotor was right. Voltron exsisted to liberate the suppressed. If their help was unwanted their presence would be viewed as just as volatile as the Galras and there would be no battles to be fought, as the war would already be over.

Ezor whooped and clapped and the rest of the room followed her example, but for Lance. 

 

 

Other than the all consuming dread that constantly plagued Lance, the evening was very boring. The Galra left him alone, since Lotor had ordered him to stay on his little humiliating pet pillow, so there was no interactions, just observations to be made. Though he received quite a few looks, some murderous, some worse. The gathering seemed to be some sort of feast, since everyone was eating and drinking like they'd been starved for months. Even Lotor was socialising, interchangably, with a plate or a glass in one hand. He looked charming, smiling or laughing or nodding along in serious silence, whenever it seemed most appropriate. He was a natural at whatever it was he was doing. And his generals where never far off from either Lotor or Lance himself.

About an hour or two in, Lance was cold, hungry and tired and moved to sit in Lotor's throne instead of the floor, using his pillow as a blanket. His ass had barely touched the seat before a couple of guards pointed their weapons at him and the nearest guests looked at him with outrage. Lance would have rolled his eyes at the spectacle, if not for the guns aimed at him. In a way he sort of hated himself for scanning the crowd for Lotor, looking to him for help to diffuse the situation. How could he have known he wasn't allowed to sit in this one specific chair?

“Paladin,” Lotor looked mildly annoyed as he walked away from a conversation and toward Lance. A small grain of fear settled in Lance's gut, growing as Lotor came closer. He was under no illusion as to who was in control, he was interely at Lotor's mercy. The prince heaved a sigh, walking up the stairs, “up,” he instructed and Lance stood, letting Lotor take his place on the throne. “I have to punish you now,” Lotor effected a bored glance in Lance's direction. “For looks if nothing else,” he shrugged, “lay on my lap.” Lance did a double take.

“What now?” his eyebrows had shot up under his bangs.

“Lay down across my lap.” Lotor didn't leave space for arguments.

Lance leaned forward, put a hand on the armrest of the throne and hesitated. “Are you-” he bit his lip, “Are you going to _spank_ me?” Lotor raised a single eyebrow in impatient irritation. Lance moved slowly, panic wrapping around his mind, halting his thought process. How was he gonna get out of this? “In front of everyone?” He asked and in response felt a hand on his neck pressing him down to lay flat across Lotor's thighs.

“Your insolence is making me enjoy this more than strictly necessary.” Lotor lifted the sheer baby doll dress out of the way and tugged his panties down, off of the round cheeks of his ass, expossing him completely.

Lance's eyes were wide in humiliation and fright. There was no getting out of this. It was absolutely demeaning and horrifying and he could feel his throat already constricting with the self contempt Lotor was going to beat in to him.

“Count.” He sounded so unaffected, Lance could've screamed, and he might've done that, had he not been so caught off guard by the ensuing  _ **SMACK**_ _._ Instead he gasped out a breathless, “One,” and heard the first cautious cheers of the small audience whose attention they'd gathered.

“Two!” Followed equally breathless and just as firm, but to his other cheek. “Three, fo-, five!” They all came in quick succession. Lance was getting breathless already and he felt the first beads of a cold sweat starting out on his back. When he felt Lotor's hand on him, he was about to call out the next number prematurely, but he was only being caressed. It was almost worse.

“How many does he deserve ?” Lotor called out to their encreasingly enthusiastic audience.

“50!”

“80.”

“30!”

Lance didn't like what he was hearing. But when he felt Lotor's thumb sliding between his cheeks and past his hole, rubbing him slightly, he forgot all about it. He jumped in place and looked back over his shoulder in shock. Lotor was smiling at his guests. He lifted his hand from Lance to point out to someone who'd suggested a number he could agree to. “20!” Lotor shouted and got a plethora of boos in return, he shook his head calmly before addressing his feedback, “In the spirit of all the future alliances we'll be initiating after tonight, let's show some mercy and kindness,” He got a tame mumble in return and then smacked Lance harder then before provoking a yelp that echoed through the room. “Besides, I don't wont to wear him out here when I can do that else where.”

Lance could practically feel the smugness vibrating through his voice and the whoops and wolf whistles that followed only confirmed his dread.

“Count.” Lotor instructed anew.

Lance wasn't certain if Lotor struck him harder for every number he whimpered out, or if he was just getting more sensitive. Regardless he was relieved beyond words once he was allowed to moan out “20!” His ass felt like it was on fire and he was genuinely proud of himself that the moist in his eyes didn't spill over when Lotor pulled his sparse clothing back in place. He was less proud of the half chub he was sporting, but obviously that had nothing to do with anything other than all the blood that had rushed to his bottom at Lotor's abuse. He heard him snicker above him.

“Look,” he said, “A colour to match your status as the red paladin,” he pulled on Lances panties, exposing the flaming red skin and making Lance gasp in painful surprise in return. “Get up.”

When Lance moved too slowly on his shakey legs, Lotor grabbed hold of him and pulled him up and off of his lap so they both were standing, and in doing so noticed the slight buldge between his legs. Lance closed his eyes in embarrasment and to brace himself from the public ridicule that were follow. But it didn't. Lotor pulled him closer by the hip and leaned down, “Perhaps it wasn't a punishment after all,” it somehow stung more like this. The forced intimacy of his captor's breath over his ear. This faux kindness. All this talk about alliances. Lance wasn't going to be his ally, he owed him nothing. His posture stiffened and he leaned away in response, and Lotor let him go a certain degree without letting go of his hips.

“Once you've calmed down, you're going to go into that crowd and look broken and defeated and poor me a glass, stand by my side till I've finished and then I will escort you to your room. Understood?” Lance was a bit confused be he nodded anyways. “You can find a sack to pour from over there,” he nodded along a wall with a sort of shelving system full of stuff that was apparently edible, since the Galra seemed rather into it. “Bring it too me and don't interact with anyone if you can avoid it.” With those words Lotor was walking down the stairs again, greeted with wide grins and merry shoulder slaps.

Lance took a few deep steadying breaths and took in the room anew. Lotor was standing practically as far away from the food shelves as possible and surrounded by drunk looking Galran officials. He steeled his nerves and went for it. The eyes of the guards bore into him from all angles, and he could feel the generals' as well, but he didn't care, he was following orders, they couldn't touch him.

Now, what had Lotor said? 'a sack'.

As he got closer to the buffet, Lance noticed that the contents of the top shelves where a sort of pouches with sticks stuck in them, probably for pouring. They looked a bit like small bagpipes, with just a singular pipe, and also not tartan. So maybe not very much like bagpipes after all. Nevertheless he still had to get his hands on one. And they were quite up high. Lance wasn't a short fellow, but he had to stand on his tiptoes and stretch as far as he could to reach and when he did that, his very red and sore ass was very exposed. And of course he felt a hand grabbing at his raw skin, _of course_. He fumbled with the pouch, but caught it anyways before it landed in some sort of tar-like dish on the shelf below.

“What a pretty little thing we have here, 'shame the prince got his hands on you first, I bet I could show you a much nicer time.” One hand became two, both feeling up his ass, migrating to his hips to push him backward into the groper's body.

Lance's head was swimming. One of those hands was on his stomaching and moving south. “Y-y-you dishonour your prince when you touch what's his.” He was desperate and Lotor's name was the only weapon he knew. And it worked, he froze in place. “Lotor would have your hand if he saw where it was now.”

Lance was shoved harshly into the shelves before him, but he was free to breathe again. “Murdering paladin scum.” The voice hissed, “I hope your precious prince takes your legs so you can't run from him.” Lance cringed and felt a chill course through him. Lotor was a double-edged sword.

 

No one else stopped him on his way to Lotor, though plenty of Galra stroked his hair or arm and tried to touch him in one way or the other,

“Isn't its skin soft?”

“Look how pretty it is when it's been tamed.”

“Such strange colouring, don't you think?”

“Oh, feel his hair, it's so different from ours!”

“Do you really think the prince would fuck something like that?”

“Careful, it might bite.”

Lance thought he was going crazy. All those whispers and murmurs, like he couldn't hear them. He wanted to scream to them all that he was neither deaf nor daft and yes, he would in fact bite the face off of the next person to touch him with out his permission.

“Paladin,” Lotor snapped him out of his thoughts. He'd already reached him and he was holding up his glass. Lance did his best to pour from the pouch and thankfully didn't spill anything. Lotor took the pouch and handed it over to a passing servant and took a sip of the blue liquid. He made a face like he liked it and Lance made one like he didn't understand why that would be. “He still needs some training of course,” Lotor jumped back into a conversation with some large Galra decked out in black, heavy armour.

“Discipline, young prince. Heavy-handed discipline will get you far.”

Lotor nodded along, “I don't doubt it, but the fear that comes with pain does not inspire the loyalty that I will be demanding of my subjects. I want them to willingly submit to me.” The smile on Lotor's face when he said that was not a joyous one, so much as it was manic. He looked to Lance then. “Paladin, what do you think? If I wanted you to drink with me, should I threaten or beat you to convince you, or is there an other way?”

He wasn't sure if Lotor was setting him up for a trap, but given all his talk of alliances, he thought not. “Well,” Lance licked his lips, postponing his answer just a milisecond longer. “You could give me a glass and fill it up?”

Lotor huffed an amused chuckle at that and handed his own glass over to Lance. The heavily armoured Galra looked on. _Quiznak_. It smelled acrid and it was a bit thicker than water. He braced himself and lifted the glass, “Salud,” he took a swig.

It wasn't nasty at all. It tasted like pineapple.  _Pineapple_. Lance was very confused and Lotor looked very amused. “Not to you liking?” He asked. The other Galra looked smug.

“No, no, it's... ah... I'm just surprised at how much I like it...” Lance smiled apologetically and took another sip, which efficiantly wiped all smugness from the other Galra's face.

Lotor laughed, “and that's exactly how I want our colonies to think of our presence.” Now Lotor was the one to look smug. “Drink up Paladin.” Lotor put an arm around his waist and pulled him close. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but Lotor had said he could leave once he'd drunk the glass Lance poured for him. It would still count if Lance was the one to finish it, right? It tasted really good. He would finish it.

The thick, blue, pineapple drink made Lance feel really good. He answered Lotor's questions without thinking about it and let his body and posture relax into him. He didn't care about how little he was wearing and who was staring, he was just mooching of Lotor's body heat and enjoying how nobody were making comments or treating him like an exotic animal in his presence.

At some point Lotor plucked the empty glass from his fingers and unwrapped Lance's arms from around him. Whoops, Lance hadn't even noticed he'd done that. And he barely noticed the little grumbling noise he himself made when Lotor pulled him away, or how he stopped frowning when Lotor rearranged them, pulling him closer again, so he could walk them out of the ballroom together.

 

Two guards were stationed in front of Lance's room-slash-cell and they stepped aside to let them in.

                      “I'm surprised how much our drinks affect you,” Lotor mused, an arm still slung around Lance's torso, manoeuvring him toward the bed.

                      “It tastes like pineapple.” Lance chuckled.

                      “...Pineapple?”

                      “It's a fruit,” he snorted, “like me,” He half fell on to the bed, laughing, when Lotor let him go.

                      “You're... a fruit?” Lotor looked so uncertain it only made Lance laugh harder.

                      “ _You're_ a fruit,” he stammered out between laughs.

                      “You seem to be having a lot of fun.” Lance sat up in the bed, his back to the weird headrest that consisted of vertical metal bars.

                      “It's so dumb it's not even funny.” He wheezed as his laughter died down and he leaned back, head tipping over the edge the headrest.

                      He stayed the way he was, so relaxed, even when he felt the bed dip as Lotor sat down. He felt so heavy and lazy. When Lotor's hip brushed against his own, he didn't care, nor when the mattress dipped on his other side under Lotor's hand. When there was a hand on the side of his throat, he slowly looked up. The purple hand moved around to his neck, supporting the weight of his head. He was so close. Lance couldn't focus on his expression, but he noticed his eyes. They were blue. Blue on yellow. Somehow, he found that surprising. Just like the way they dipped down for a moment to his mouth.

                      “If I wanted you to kiss me, how should I convince you?”

                      The blue pineapple was definitely at fault. Lance kissed him.

                      Just a peck. “Please don't.” He couldn't bring himself to look at those blue eyes again. It felt like something cold had gripped his heart and started squeezing it. He was in no position to ask for favours, to ask for anything, to be anything other than what Lotor wanted.

                      That heavy laziness that had settled into his body felt like wearing heavy armour under water. Lotor kissed him again. The corner of his mouth. And left, the doors hissing shut after him. Lance let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. He felt like he'd nearly drowned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like i should add that my writing program doesn't have spell check in english, only in my own language, so if you see a butt load of mistakes, missing apostrophes, spelling fucks and grammatical yikes' and so on and so forth i am legit all ears!!  
> I'm a big fan of constructive criticism !! :)
> 
> EDIT: OMG GUYS I FORGOT THE ENTIRE KISS THING AND I REFERENCE IT SO HEAVILY IN THE NEXT CHAPTER LMAO WHAT THE FUDGE IM SO SORRY !!!!!!!!!!


	3. Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor shares some important things with Lance who shares the imprtance of breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Politics ! yadda yadda yadda, I need to establish some motives here, but now that that has been done it wont take up as much space in the future :) but hey theres like 2% banter so that's nice !
> 
> (also ive been so busy lately so im sorry for the long wait ! Ive been to Venice, coincedentally met an international internet friend, got a bf and been to hospital for stomach pains, required some substantial debt and lots of other things lol, which is a lot more than what usually happens to me in 2 weeks ^^')

When he woke up the next morning it didn't feel like a hangover. He was okay. The heaviness had left his body and he remembered everything just fine. Which he almost wished he didn't. He'd practically snuggled Lotor at a Galra party designed for his explicit humiliation. Well, he was certainly ready to be marked down as humiliated. And then there was the kiss. The _blasted_ kiss. And Lotor had not-

Lance bend forward curling in on himself, covering his mouth with his hands. It felt like a miracle. Lotor had listened to him and decided not to force him even though he could have so easily done it. It had been a while since Lance felt so alive. So lucky. So unlucky. So conflicted. He rolled over onto his other side as a near hysterical laugh started bubbling up and spilling through the hands that covered his mouth. He felt like a lamb that had walked straight into the lions den and back out unscathed. Of course he wasn't outside the grasp of his predator's claws yet.

The blue pineapple drink might not have given him a headache, but he had sweat through that ridicilous suit from the night before, so he didn't hesitate with its removal. There was a towel-like piece of fabric in his little bathroom and after he'd washed, when he returned to his bed, somehow the dirty clothes had been replaced with something new. Creepy.

It was leggins. High-waisted, skin-tight, black leggins, with red Galra-looking marks on the thighs and blue ones on the hips and butt. And that was it. Nothing else to wear. No shirt, no underwear. He did however notice, when he picked up his new... 'outfit' felt generous... his new get up, that the fabric stretched around his feet, with an incorporated sole and a small heel, and of course a little breathing hole for his heel. He briefly wondered if that served a purpose, or if it was just the Galra aesthetic.

Once he'd dressed he knocked on his door again. He wondered if they would let him out. If they'd allow him to eat on occasion. He hadn't eaten anything since he woke up here and he was starting to really feel it.

To his surprise the guards answered the door immediately. “Prince Lotor has instructed us to escort you to him.” One of them said and spread out an arm in what Lance assumed was the general direction they were meant to be going.

“What about breakfast?”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes, breakfast. The most important meal of the day, the one that wakes you up? Do the Galra not eat breakfast?” The two guards looked questioningly at each other before the other one answered.

“Ask the Prince for your breakfast.”

“But-”

“Unless you want to eat in the cafeteria together with all the rest of the guards.” The Galra guard looked him up and down in a manner that implied that Lance would not want to do that. And so they brought him to Lotor.

The Prince was in what appeared to be a large conference room, pouring over a huge stack of papers with a few old looking Galra fellows and one of his generals, Acxa, accompaning him. They didn't notice Lance's entrance immediately and kept on talking about their politics.

“We need to exude power, without being threatening. Like we are a benevolent force in the face of your potential alliances.” Lotor said, pushing a stack of large papers away from himself, across the table.

“But your Highness,” it was a rather short Galra with grey whiskers who spoke up, “the planets we have already conquered will need more than a change of our heir's image to trust us with their unwavering loyalty. They've offered up resources to such an extend that whole planets have been hollowed out. Their trust is lost for us, if we continue to rule them as we have and focus our energy on alliances with new worlds, we will be much more succesful.”

Lotor sighed and leaned forward to reply, but at that moment one of Lance's guards cleared their throat. “Your Highness, as per your request.”

Lotor looked over his shoulder at Lance. “Dismissed.” He spoke to the guards but looked at Lance. “Paladin, I assume you overheard our conversation,” He turned in his chair to look fully at Lance, lacing his fingers together over his stomach, “and you, you're loved across the galaxies, unlike I, do you have any advice on how to change my status to one like your own?” he sounded eeriely casual.

He couldn't help it. Lance snorted. Acxa looked like she was ready to draw her weapon on him and at least three of the advisers around the table gasped. Lotor didn't look away from Lance, he just waved his fellow Galras' concerns away. “Why would I ever help you?” Lance was genuinely curious, but also mildly outraged.

For a moment Lotor pretended to consider it, “perhaps because you have no choice, but also because, helping me avoid further bloodshed and enslavement just seems like the paladin thing to do. Don't you fight for peace and freedom?”

Lance was slightly taken aback. “There's always a choice...” He sounded a bit uncertain as he replied to the first part of the statement. “But if you really wanted peace and freedom, why not leave the planets alone?”

Again Lotor sighed. He rested his cheek in his hand, never looking away from Lance. “I want peace for my own people first and foremost and we have come to depend on the resources we gain from our subjects. Without them, my empire would collapse, and no matter the importance of willing submission and trade and the peace that follows, _our_ needs and survival come first. Without these resources, Galran civil war would be inevitable and that would likely either spread to those of our colonies you've yet to liberate from us, or collapse our government and culture. So much for peace.”

Lance had never even given that any thought. But Lotor was still definitely a terrible person. That had been established and there where no take-backsies. “Well,” he gathered his thoughts for a moment. “Why not carry on the way you always have then?”

“Oh,” Lotor smiled condescendingly, “A paladin advocating for slavery and poor living conditions? That must be a first.”

“I think your father was the first, actually,” Lance shot back and wiped the smile off of Lotor's face. Axca took a threatening step forward and closer to Lotor who grit his teeth and answered Lance's first question. Lance felt a bit smug.

“Obviously we can not carry on the way we always have with you paladins liberating planet after planet, robbing us from our essentials. As I'm sure you're aware, your Altean friend's father destroyed _our_ planet, effieciently making us not only homeless, but utterly dependent on others. And we will not live of whatever charity others feel fit to spare us, when we are able to provide for oursleves in other ways.” There was a hardness, a bitterness to Lotor then, that Lance hadn't seen before, which surprised him since he after all was the heir to all the literal evil that plagued the galaxy. One might expect him to be hard and bitter and cruel with moderate frequency.

“Your 'other ways' include a lot of murdering.” Lance objected stubbornly.

“For which I have requested your assistence in order to change.”

“For all the wrong reasons! You're still being selfish and terrible.” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

“Aren't you the same, when you refuse us your help?” Lance blinked in shock at that. He was _nothing_ like Lotor.

“Fine!” He yelled sharply, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “But I want breakfast first.” And then recrossed them.

 

Galra food was not as pleasant as their drinks, but at least Lance wasn't hungry anymore. He had gotten a bowl of the tar like substance that he'd almost dropped that drinking pouch in during the party. And it felt like eating peanutbutter, but tasted a bit like green tomatoes. He was glad they had some water to wash it down with.

He ate in the cafeteria, but across from Axca, who had been assigned to keep him safe from the Galra that send him looks even more sour than his weird tar meal.

“So,” Lance tried to distract himself from his food. “Axca, that's a unique name, is it Galran?”

She looked unimpressed and crossed her arms on the table leaning onto them. “Eat your foot.”

Lance looked down at it with misery. “Is it supposed to taste like ass?”

Axca raised an eyebrow, “I'm not familiar with the taste of your species'-”

“Nevermind!” Lance interrupted. “Quiznak... Do you like the taste of this?”

She shrugged, “yeah, and more importantly it has all the proteins that we need. It's good when we want to do some heavy training. We always eat it before big workouts.” Heavy training. Big workouts. What kind of heavy excersise could Lotor have planned for him? He swallowed a dry mouthful and took a swig of water. He wished he had never asked Axca. He certainy wasn't very hungry anymore, but he also didn't know when he would be allowed another meal so he finished what he could and let Axca escort him back to Lotor with a heavy feeling in his gut that had little to do with the weird meal. He really wanted to not think about _that_.

 

“How often do your species requered nourishment?” Lotor asked when they returned.

Lance was standing behind a chair, uncomfertably fiddling with the sparse details on the backrest. “Three times a day at least.” He said and continued to look at the chair.

“It will be taken care of.” Lotor shuffled with some papers and stood from his seat, walking toward Lance who stiffened at the closeness. Lotor maneuvered Lance slightly to the side before pulling his chair out. “Sit.” He gestured to the chair and Lance did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the table.

“So, Paladin.” Lotor sat back down in his own chair, Axca standing to the side behind him and all the advisers glaring at Lance. “You have visited some of our colonies and you seem to be well liked. What will it take for me to be held in the same esteem as you?”

Lance shrugged. “I honestly don't know.” He combed a hand through his hair and kept his gaze down when he heard a scornful snicker from at least one adviser. “Have you tried laying off the beatings and murdering and torturing?” He chanced a resentful look in Lotor's direction. “And the threatening all the time. It wouldn't make you likable, but maybe less hated.” He heard the shuffling of beginning protests already before he had finished speaking, but Lotor raised a hand to silence the room.

“Of course.” He managed to hold Lance's gaze for a moment before Lance turned his head. Lotor didn't look remorseful in the slightest, but not offended either, just calmly neutral. “Cease the violence. Anything else?”

Lance leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. He touched the arch of his neck while he thought and felt the ghost of Lotor's touch from the night before. “Always get their consent when you do something on their planet.” Lance snapped his head back around to glare at Lotor, “It theirs, not yours, you can't just do whatever you want and scare the fuck out of them. They have rights too you know. And speaking of rights, you should make sure they're aware of their rights, and let them know that you are equal, that you don't own them.” Axca pursed her lips and looked away and most of the advisers seemed confused, while the rest were mostly outraged at how Lance dare speak to their prince. Lotor looked coolly and silently at Lance, practically staring him down.

“Yes, yes, we _have_ taken the obvious into consideration, we will incorporate it all along the way. Do you have anything _useful_ to add?” It was one of the advisers that spoke.

When Lance stayed silent, continuing the staring competition, Lotor spoke up. “I think what my counsil is trying to say, is that we'd like some professional advice as opposed to the personal.”

Lance sucked on his teeth for a moment before resigning and leaning back in his chair, looking back up at the ceiling. It had a few of those pretty crystals up there, but not nearly as many as the ballroom. “There's not much to it. Listen to them and their needs. Give them what they want, help them with their independence, be kind, be respectful and laugh at their jokes even when you don't understand them. It's pretty simple.”

Silence followed for a moment. “Be kind.” Lotor echoed. Lance nearly snorted again at the alien way he spoke those words. “Kindness is easily linked to weakness, notably among us.”

Lance looked unimpressed. “So you need to look good for your alliances and bad for your own men?” Lance shook his head. “You know your own species better than I do, but they're dumb if they think it doesn't take strength to do a good deed when you don't have to.”

“Perhaps,” surprisingly Lotor agreed. His council didn't seem to approve. “But I _do_ have to.”

“Well, just, you know, do some good things then, and get the credit and present it to your own people like you're doing the poor a favour out of pity or something, like you're demonstrating your power or manipulating them or whatever.”

Lotor nodded along. “Not bad. You've grasped our dilemma; how to sell peace to those who believe we are warmongers, and to those of us who are warmongers.”

There was silence for a moment as Lance waited for Lotor to continue, but he didn't. “Alrighty...”

Lotor smiled and pushed his chair back. “Enough politics for today.” He stood. “Let me show you something.”

“Eh, ehm...” Lance hessitated at the abrupt change, as Lotor gestured for him to get up and take his arm again. He did do as suggested without further prompting, this time. He might've asked Lotor to lay of the threats and torturings, but that didn't mean he'd listen to him this time around. “Where are we going?”

“I would like to train with you, a paladin, and since we can both learn from the experience, I'm sure you won't mind. We are going to my quarters; I have my own gym.”

Lance's hold on the crook of Lotor's elbow stiffened and his eyes widened. “Oh, uh, I'm not necessarily the best person ever in hand to hand, and I don't have my gear, so maybe we should just go back to talking about politics again? I'm not sure I've had enough of that yet actually...”

Lotor slowed down and looked over his shoulder down at Lance with a singular raised eyebrow. “And now I've already learned something new,” he said. “I thought you were excellent in everything you did.”

opening and closing his mouth a couple of times Lance tried to think up a defense, while also figuring out if Lotor had just insulted or complimented him. “Well, I-I'm-I'm pretty decent you know, but I'm the sharpshooter, that's what I do best. No Keith is much better at the up close stuff, I'd ask him to teach me if he weren't such an arrogant ass.”

“Keith? Is that the black paladin? He's like a human's posterior?” Lotor sounded quietly amused as he continued leading the way.

“He's not always so bad,” Lance shrugged with one shoulder. “Even if he is-” He clapped his free hand over his mouth. He'd been about to say _one of you_ , which was wrong on so many levels, but most importantly he'd giving away information of his teammates to the enemy!

“Paladin?” Lotor frowned looking down at Lance. Lance didn't know if he was trying to look concerned or annoyed at the interruption.

“Bit my tongue,” He apologised with a sheepish smile. “Are you going to utterly obliterate me when you force me to sparr with you?”

Lotor almost snorted. “I'm not done with you already.” he patted Lance's hand gently. “Here we are,” He stopped infront of two large sliding doors and the guards that had been shadowing them stepped aside to flank the double doors. Lotor still hadn't let go of his hand.

 


	4. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor teaches Lance not to pick fights he cant win

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS  
> i think i forgot something VERY IMPORTANT !!   
> i just reread the previous chapters and a scene was missing from chapter two !!! the KISS scene !!! and i reference it heavily in the next chapter lmao,,, question is whether i accidentally deleted it after i posted it or whether it was never there to begin with ????  
> i URGE you to go back and read it the last idk two-three paragraphs of chapter two - also im sorry lol
> 
> also for Lances second outfit, i did a sketch :)   
> http://drawsbylaw.tumblr.com/post/164792836469/i-quickly-doodled-lance-in-an-outfit-i-tried-to

To the surprise of no one, Lotor’s room had the classic Galran colour schemes. Lance was despite himself somewhat impressed with the species commitment to dark grey and purple.

                      The room looked reminiscent of fancy hotel suites, he’d only ever seen in films. He didn’t get long to look though, as Lotor let him through the room, behind what seemed to be a tall-backed, huge sofa and passed the kitchen bar to a door that opened up to a hallway. A hallway that doubled as a walk-in closet. Again, despite himself, Lance was impressed. Except the dull colours, this was perfect!

                      While Lance was gaping, and struggling for words (a walk-in closet!) the prince who owned it was pulling out a training uniform.

                      “You- you, a _walk-in_ closet !?” His arms where flailing beyond his control.

                      Lotor, looked at him in observatory silence for nearly an entire second, “you should put this on,” he placed the one piece suit over Lance’s outstretched arm. “You have an interest in storage and organisation?” He asked while Lance was looking sceptically at the suit.

                      He looked up distractedly, “what now, just clothes, fashion, which this, by the way is not.” He gestured to the grey onsie.

                      “You can make it work,” Lotor told him, “unless you’d rather sparr me with just leggings between us.”

                      Lance flushed, more so at his tone than his words and looked for somewhere to put his legs inside the thing. “Well, it’s not like you’d be naked, your pretentious princely robes would still be there.”

                      Lotor huffed in amusement, “Well, if you’re so put off about my outfit, it doesn’t have to be in the way.” He leaned in closer to Lance, who had one and half legs in the open back of the training outfit and was struggling with his balance.

                      “It’s not the outfit that’s off putting.” Lance said and promptly stumbled backward into the closet as his fight against gravity was lost. Lotor laughed. At least his butt ache wasn’t bad enough to distract him, even when he landed on it.

                      “You’re not supposed to wear those underneath,” he said and looked on as Lance crawled out from between his various suits and sat on the floor dragging the loose fabric over his legs.

                      “Yeah, well, I’m not stripping in front of you.” Lotor looked unconvinced, while Lance finally got to his feet, now wearing two soles with heels on top of one another, and got his arms into the suit as well. Lotor was right, he shouldn’t have worn the weird leggings underneath. He was at a disadvantage now, with his balance shrewd. Well, he figured as long as he was fighting Lotor in hand to hand, he was at a large enough disadvantage that this would hardly make a difference.

“It’s a bit, uh, loose.” Lance looked himself up and down he looked like a kitten wrapped up an a ball of yarn twice his own size. It was at least six sizes too large for him, and that was being optimistic. “And not very armour-y…”

Lotor put a hand on his chest, twisted his wrist and pushed. Lance nearly lost his balance and had to take a step backward to stay standing, “Hey! What was tha-“ He trailed off as the suit shrunk on him, like one of those bags his aunt used on their bread, sucking all the oxygen out to conserve it. It was skin-tight in a second and then the armour popped out. It hissed mechanically, and then his arms and legs where heavy from the hard, protective layer that surrounded them. “Wow…”

A satisfied smile danced across Lotor’s lips. “Yes indeed.” He looked at Lance, not the armour.

 

 

The gym was as large as the one in the castle, and Lance was impressed that it belonged to Lotor alone. While he was busy studying the high ceiling (no giant crystals) Lotor was fiddling with a computer display on the wall.

“Paladin!” He called to gain Lance’s attention. Lance snapped around, he felt a tinge of excitement creep through his apprehension. He knew he was going to get his ass handed to him, but he was almost certain that he would live, and it was a bit cool that after this day he could brag that he’d gone up against the Prince of the Galran Empire and gotten away with it. But then there was the apprehension.

Hand to hand required a lot of close contact.

“There are rules to this.” Lotor said. “You lose by tap out or incapacitation. Each match is a point won by one of us, and that’s what we’re playing for. You win at one point, I win at five. There’s a small interval between matches and if you try to cheat the suit will lock up and freeze you in position for ten seconds.”

“Hang on,” Lance protested, “why do I only need one point and you need five?”

Lotor looked a little surprised, “for fairness. Wasn’t that something you stressed earlier?”

“Well, that’s not equal terms, and that’s not fair.”

Lotor looked thoughtful for a moment. “Interesting. So if we both fight for five, would that be fair?”

No “…Yes,” Lance wavered a bit.

“Hm, pride is something we have not considered enough at the council. What a delicate matter.”

Lance was getting quite annoyed. “Are we gonna fight or not?”

With a brisk nod, that put that conversation to rest, Lotor reached out and touched the computer briefly, starting a countdown from five.

The second, the electronic voice reached one, Lotor was on Lance.

He tackled him to the ground and got an arm behind his neck and one in front of his throat, hooking his fingers into the joint of his elbow and squeezed. Lance’s vision was starting to darken around the edges before he had time to form a single coherent thought. His legs where kicking at nothing and his fingers where pulling and pushing to no prevail against Lotor’s armoured bicep. He spluttered and felt a drop of his own spit land on his cheek. Lotor’s face was hidden behind his long curtain of white hair, but Lance wished he could see it, just for a moment, to look for any spark of sympathy, or if it was all just pleasure drawn from his discomfort.

He tapped Lotor’s bicep quickly with increasing desperation and immediately Lotor let go and leaned back on his heels, straddling Lance’s chest as he was coughing and gasping for air. He leaned to the side and nearly retched, with the force of his coughs, as his body tried to clear a non-existent obstruction from his throat, finally his windpipe opened up enough for him to leave the coughing and focus on the gasping. His lungs felt like they were on fire and he could still feel the ghost of pressure on the side of his throat as he wiped his mouth and cheek clean of his own spit.

“Holy shit,” Lance’s voice was affected too, hoarse and uncomfortable to use. His head thumbed against the floor below him as he leaned back again, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands rested near his throat.

“I understand your hesitance in regard to hand to hand combat better now.” Lotor said.

Lance didn’t have the strength to call him an asshole, and even if he did, he probably would not have dared.

“How are you even supposed to get out of that death grip,” Lance protested, his voice slowly returning to something like normal.

Lotor raised an eyebrow, “Have you not received any training ever?” Lance huffed indignantly and tried to sit up and shove Lotor off him, which only resulted in him landing back on the floor. Shoving Lotor was liking shoving a concrete wall.

 

The first point went to Lotor and so did the next four and he didn’t show Lance how to get out of his stupid death grip. The whole thing was over in less than half an hour and Lance was feeling a bit humiliated. They might not have been at it for very long but he was exhausted. He was lying flat and outstretched on the floor, heaving for breath, like a starfish out of water. Lotor tossed him a water pouch, he didn’t catch it, but once he got hold of it he drank it down in one go.

“This was embarrassing,” Lance said and lied back down.

“Actually, it was worse than that,” Lotor said from above him. “If you at any point need to demonstrate your combat skills, which is not unlikely, your capture will seem less impressive.”

“When- why would I need to fight someone else than you?” Lance asked a little alarmed.

Lotor shrugged, “insults, challenges, assassination attempts, a coup, an attack from another planet, take your pick. The important thing is not what specific thing might happen, but that you will be prepared for all of them.”

“Uhm, those assassination attempts,” Lance raised a tentative hand.

“I will have to train you.” Lotor said and it sounded like he spoke more to himself than Lance. He shook his head, “it will be a challenge.” He turned back to Lance, hands crossed behind his back. “It’s settled paladin, I will train you here and you will join my peace council.”

Lance almost wished he hadn’t finished all his water in one go, just so he could have taken a swig and demonstratively spat it back out. “That seems a bit daft…”

“Daft? How is it daft, you need to learn to protect yourself and I need you for diplomacy.”

“Yeah, true, but,” Lance was sitting back up a leg drawn up to his chest, his arm dangling loosely from his knee. “I don’t think I’ll learn a whole bunch from you kicking my butt, and I don’t think I have anything to teach you, I mean I clearly didn’t have anything to contribute with today.”

“It has been decided.” Lotor looked angry. Lance didn’t understand why.

“But-“ Before he could protest any further Lotor grabbed his wrist and yanked him up on his feet. He winced. He was unprepared for it and it hurt his shoulder more than he would like to admit.

“Get in the shower.” Lotor shoved him forward, toward the exit.

 Lance debated whether to say anything for about half a second. “Why are you so mad?” He turned around to look at Lotor. “We’ve only trained for half an hour and I’ve learned nothing. I disagree with you on your plan about me teaching you diplomacy and you immediately get violent. Do you understand my scepticism?”

Lotor looked like he wanted to bite his head off. And then his furious glare drifted down to Lance’s mouth so quickly Lance thought he might have imagined it. He shoved Lance hard, “Defend yourself.”

“Quiznak, alright,” He barely had time to lift his arm before Lotor’s shin connected with it. He had aimed for his head. Next thing he knew it was Lotor’s fist he parried. He barely had time to think. Then Lotor caught him in the shoulder with the heel of his left palm and he stumbled backwards without falling, until Lotor swept his feet off the floor with a wide low kick. Lance landed on his ass and immediately rolled to the side to avoid Lotor’s boot. He was on his front when Lotor grabbed his collar and pulled backward. He got behind him and put a knee with most of his weight on his lower back and pulled him backward again.

Lance groaned in discomfort and tapped the floor. Like all the other times Lotor let go immediately and Lance was left gasping for air. This time however he didn’t give him long to recuperate. His knee slid down from Lance’s back so he again was straddling him and then put a hand on the side his face pushing down. There were a lot of distractions, but nonetheless Lance felt something against his ass where Lotor’s crotch was. For a moment it seemed like he was going to say something and then he was up and off of Lance, leaving him on the floor.

“We’re done with the training for today, leave your gear here and go back to your own quarters.”

It was probably about one pm and if Lotor sent him away now, chances where he’d be cooped up in his little boring room for a while.

“What did you teach me?” He trying to keep the conversation going while he got off the floor and half-jogged after Lotor.

“Not to pick fights you can’t win.” The hiss of the metal doors sounded as they slid open. There was a small dressing room between the gym and Lotor’s living room, but Lotor walked straight through it.

“Hey, mind if I shower here?”

Lotor, stopped in the next door opening and looked back at him for a moment. “Why?”

“I’m sweaty now,” he shrugged. He didn’t want Lotor to ground him. “Hey can you show me how to take this thing off?” He gestured to the suit. Lotor walked right into his personal bubble and put his palm on his chest and did the twisty thing. The suit hissed and expanded until he was back to looking like a kitten caught in a bunch of yarn. He shrugged his shoulders out into the free, letting the training suit fall down his body. “Can I have lunch after this?”

“Another meal?” Lotor nodded. “Yes, I did promise you that didn’t I?” His temper seemed to have cooled considerably.

“Good, I’ll see you for lunch then.” Lance smiled and nodded to the exit. Lotor took the hint, bowed with his hands behind his back and left.

 

                      After that first day they settled into an almost routine. In the morning they would meet and Lotor would kick Lances ass, adding to his plethora of bruises, then they would have lunch together, just the two of them, and then they would go join the council. Both seemed equally useless to Lance.

                      Except that he was obviously a giant evil asshole, Lotor wasn’t actually the worst company. He didn’t make Lance feel safe, but he made him feel safer. And special. He was clearly the only one who was allowed to talk back to the prince. The outfits however continued and where still sexual and demeaning. He brought it up with Lotor one and he only tried to talk him into nudity then, while still maintaining that it was good for crew morale.

                      Lance started talking a bit to the generals. Ezor apologised for kicking him in the face and throwing him off a cliff and though she didn’t mean it, Lance appreciated her cheerful disposition given his gloomy situation. Zethrid and Narti barely interacted with him, though Kova came to check on him sometimes and he would scratch her behind the ear. She seemed to like him. And Axca tried to hold a professional distance, but she joined him and Lotor sometimes for training or lunch and she despite herself, Lance thought she had taken a shine to him. What could he say, he was just that likable. Lotor had definitely taken a liking to him. Almost every other evening he was entertaining someone, and he would always bring out Lance and walk him around the room to Oh’s and Ah’s. There had yet to be a company as large as the first evening, but there other species that met up to negotiate terms, who joined the Galra when they saw a Paladin in his possession.

                      Once, for a delicate such event, where the guests might not join the empire so easily, Lance was cuffed and muffled and only brought in to show off his bruises from their training and as a scare tactic. That was bad enough, but the guard that had kept him outside until Lotor’s signal had been handsy. It only added to Lotor’s act when he saw moisture in the corner of Lance’s eyes. His temper flared, cold this time, which was by far the more intimidating of his two kinds of anger. And after that evening Lance never saw that Guard again.

                      Then there was the time they served that blue pineapple drink. There’d only been Galra guests then and Lotor had broken someone’s finger when they had grabbed a drunken Lance to sway against to the alien music. The following morning Lance woke up next to Lotor, and the worst thing was that he remembered having asked him to stay. That was also the first time he saw the prince so dresses down.

                      He’d woken up with his nose between lilac shoulder blades and when he leaned back in horror at the thought of what had let to this, new horror took over those unfounded fears. Long, mostly diagonal scars ran down his back, deep and old. He lied back down and put an arm around Lotor’s torso and fell asleep. The next time he woke up he was alone.

                      What bothered him most about his situation, was not his captivity itself, nor his captors.

                      It was the fact that he had heard nothing from his team. It had been nearly three weeks. Nothing. No attack, no message, no rescue mission. Nothing. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it. He couldn’t even really talk about it, he’d just risk giving away information to the enemy. He still couldn’t help being sad.

                      It was the day after he’d slept next to Lotor, when in the evening Lotor asked him to come back to his for dinner. Lance knew he couldn’t decline, but he was still a bit vary. Lotor never stopped looking at him like he wanted him, despite not crossing too many lines anymore.

                      They’d eaten together countless times, but the way Lotor asked this time was charged. He wanted something. It made sense, that it was a special occasion as well. The outfit from this morning was prettier than usual. He wasn’t sure whether to call it a dress or a skirt, but it wrapped around his torso just below his nipples, leaving them out in the open. It started in what felt like leather buttoned around his ribs till his upper thigh when the buttons disappeared and the dress opened up into a skirt, exposing his legs. The silky fabric that flowed around his legs was long enough to drag along the floor and drizzled in little red crystals. The dress itself faded from a red leathery corset to blue silky skirt. It was too pretty for a random day.

This evening was meaningful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, i've been busy,, i also recently had a depressive episode that I'm still feeling, but alas, what ya gonna do,

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are the life blood of any fic and writer, please leave me some ! :)


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